


Cure for Illness

by Dreua



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Concussions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Likely OOC, M/M, Minor Injuries, just a little something to pass the time, soft and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:21:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23600749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreua/pseuds/Dreua
Summary: The last thing he notices, eyes blurring, light shining deathly close to his face, is the outline of his teammate rushing over, knees knocking against the floorboards in hopes of catching him mid fall before his world turns a murky shade of black.
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 95





	Cure for Illness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeoRan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeoRan/gifts).



> I was given the task of writing an Oikawa/Suga fic for a dear friend.... first time dipping my feet into writing for the fandom, long term fan. It's been a hot minute since I actually sat down and watched the series, though, so apologies in advance. Enjoy?

The last thing he notices, eyes blurring, light shining deathly close to his face, is the outline of his teammate rushing over, knees knocking against the floorboards in hopes of catching him mid fall before his world turns a murky shade of black.

“Suga, hey, Suga, you gotta stay with us, okay?”

“Did you not see him before you tossed the damn ball?”

“Guys, settle down, he can’t even hear you . . . .”

He knows, right down to the jolt of pain that catches his breath and forces him to choke back what little sound he’d hoped to make, that something is horribly wrong. His entire body, oddly heavy, screams in protest the moment he dares to open his eyes in the brightly lit room. There’s a dull ache blossoming from his forehead straight down to his neck, heat radiating behind his eyelids with every small motion he chances to make. He can barely see his own hand as he brings it up to rub small circles between his eyebrows, fingers smoothing over the worry lines that have chanced to form. 

They’d been one point away . . . . granted it was only a practice match, but still, the thought that he’d potentially let his teammates down . . He’d been doing a lot of that, lately.

He groans, jostling beneath the sheets until he’s able to prop himself up, eyes squinting against the light. _Daichi is going to kill me . . ._

“Ball got you pretty hard, huh?” The voice comes out of nowhere, concern evident, tone lowering to the point that Suga has to strain in order to hear them speak. “What were you even doing, usually you’d see those. . .” There’s a slight pressure, the newcomer having taken to placing their hand upon Suga’s arm, fingers clutching as if at any moment the setter might break. “Don’t move too much, nurse says it’s a mild concussion.” 

“Oikawa?” Suga’s voice is thick, the back of his throat itching from lack of water and having been idle for too long. “What happened?” He doesn’t even question as to why the brunette is in the room, let alone touching him, rather he focuses on the sound of the other’s voice, lets calloused fingers smooth over his skin, reassuring and somewhat possessive. It’s not their first time sharing such a moment, and Suga highly doubts it will be their last. 

Oikawa scoffs, positions himself so that his free hand falls against pale hair, brushes aside unruly bangs until he’s greeted with a lopsided grin and a semi coherent stare. “You zoned out or something, one minute you were reaching for the ball and the next it was hitting your pretty little face.” Everything he says is soft, careful not to put insult to injury, so much unlike his usual boastful bravado on court. “You had me worried.” The hand toying with Suga’s bangs stills, fingers pressing against the setter’s forehead, “ _really_ worried if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve had worse, I think.” Suga tries his hardest to sound like he’s joking, voice catching despite his best efforts. He’s had one other incident up until this point, one that only Daichi knows about and he’d like to keep it at that.

Oikawa fixes him with raised eyebrows, eyes narrowing, though he doesn’t pry.

Daichi, bless his heart, tells Suga to rest up at home—he doesn’t want the setter bouncing around on the court, let alone potentially jarring anything that might be trying to heal. For what it’s worth, Oikawa volunteers to walk him back, something about feeling guilty or some snarky bullshit he manages to pull right out of left field without even trying. For what it’s worth, Suga feels like utter garbage the second he’s within sight of his teammates, hands shaking against his side, eyes darting towards the door and back to fall hesitantly on everyone surrounding them.

“I’ll be taking your precious _Mr. Refreshing_ back with me, _Dai-chi_.” And if the brunette even chances to see the tight lipped face that Daichi pulls, he doesn’t say, nor does he care as he backs his way out of the practice hall, Suga in tow.

He changes instantly in that tiny window, draws Suga close against his side, threading their fingers together, lets the pale haired man lean heavy against him while he fits his free arm loose about a lithe waist.

“If you keep saying things like that, he might get a complex.” 

“I’m sure he’ll be just fine.” Oikawa pauses mid thought, glances down at the smaller man beside him, quirks a lopsided grin. “Let’s get you home, shall we?”

Oikawa takes to bustling around the kitchen the minute they both settle down. Suga, for lack of anything better to do, lays down the couch, pillow propped beneath his head, idly flicking the channels on the television remote.

“You have any tea?”

“Top shelf on the right.”

An awkward silence filters through the tiny one bedroom apartment, interrupted only by the whistling of the kettle and a screech when Oikawa happens to burn himself while pouring water.

“In my defense,” the brunette nestles himself into the cushions of the couch, tugs Suga over until his head rests against his lap, cards nimble fingers through pale hair, “the water came out of nowhere.” 

“Just like the ball, huh? Out of nowhere, smack into my face.” And this has Suga laughing, leaning further into his companion’s touch, watching intently as the brunette makes a fuss out of the tiniest of burns. 

“ _Tooru_ ,” his tone turns serious. “Thank you.” 

Oikawa gives him the best look of confusion he can possibly muster, the makings of a breathless laugh escaping from between his lips. He’s never been used to the smaller man trying to appear serious, still finds it oddly endearing that he even tries.

“And, if I may, what exactly are you thanking me for?”

Suga turns a bit, arms coming to rest on either side of Oikawa’s waist, pokes the taller man in the cheek. “For getting me out of there,” he pauses, chews his bottom lip in thought, “for not letting Daichi see that I was nervous, embarrassed.” His gaze ghosts over the expanse of the brunette’s face, falls casually to linger on his lips.

“Is that all?” The brunette puffs his cheeks, eyes glinting with mischief. “Nothing to thank me for, you know I always have your back, _Koushi_.” Oikawa steals himself for a moment, collects his thoughts and lets his arms snake around the smaller man’s shoulders, bringing their foreheads together.

“Just, be more careful next time, please.”

“And, if I’m not?” 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to carry you home, again. Or something cheesy like that, I suppose.” Oikawa’s response comes out between gasps, laughter bubbling up from deep within his chest at the way his companion all but rolls his eyes, exasperated sigh cut short as the brunette pecks a quick kiss to Suga’s lips, leaning back to admire the blush that sets deep upon pale skin.

“Idiot.”

“But you love me, admit it.”

“You want to bet on that?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Suga.”

Laughter mixed between the sounds of cushions being pushed to the floor envelopes the small room, the two taking to lounging, lazily exploring with gentle kisses and touches, neither wanting to get up least they force the other to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Straight out of left field . . . . 
> 
> Stay safe, ya'all <3


End file.
